


A Touch More Dangerous

by TheLadyMagician



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, BAMF Graves, BAMF Newt, Creature!Graves, Dragon!Graves, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda sorta pack dynamic-ish?, M/M, Newt's creatures, Possessive Behavior, Shapeshifter!Graves, Torture, but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-02 10:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10942728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyMagician/pseuds/TheLadyMagician
Summary: "You must never let anyone see, Percy," his mother had told him then. "They will hurt you and tell you it's for study. They will chain you and tell you it's for protection. And they will kill you and rejoice."Percival Graves learned early in his life that humanity was not to be trusted. Gellert Grindelwald was simply a powerful reminder of that fact. Newt Scamander and his suitcase of dangerous creatures was an oddity in the grand scheme of things, but Graves knew better than to let a kind face deceive him.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I've been stalking the Gramander fandom for awhile, and I'm just baffled how there's not more creature!Graves around here. So I decided to remedy that. There wasn't a creature in canon that I enjoyed for Graves, so I made my own. 
> 
> Also, I know that I have a ton of fics that haven't been updated, but school (and god was this a hellish year) is finally over and cosplay is over in a week and a half. So no worries, I've got a free summer ahead of me and chapters on deck! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The first time Percival ever transformed with his own free will was under the watchful eye of his mother. He was five years old and while he'd transformed multiple times on accident, it took concentration that a five year old didn't quite possess to do it willingly.

When he finally accomplished the feat, he'd been ecstatic. His mother smiled at him sadly as he attempted to fly, managing to get a few feet off the ground before plopping down.

"You must never let anyone see, Percy," his mother had told him then. "They will hurt you and tell you it's for study. They will chain you and tell you it's for protection. And they will kill you and rejoice."

The next thing Percival learns at five years old is how to oblivate people, still under the watchful tutelage of his mother.

* * *

The second time Percival transformed in front of someone was at Illvermorny--a friend. A supposed friend. He'd been young, only twelve, and while his mother's caution had always been in the back of his mind, she had a predilection for being overly dramatic.

The screams from his friend rang terribly in his ears and the quick string of hexes and curses fired his way bounced harmlessly off his scales.

Percival was much better at flight and blocked the student's path back into Illvermorny. He transformed back into an unassuming wizard and cast Oblivate wordlessly and without a wand.

He didn't keep many friends after that.

* * *

The third time was when he was thirty, just making Senior Auror and on one of the more dangerous missions to attempt to prove his worth. It was a group of witches and wizards trafficking some new drug, but it was made from the blood of a sphinx. Illegal to possess; inhumane to drain.

And maybe Graves got into more trouble than he expected, but something about taking an intelligent creature and torturing them....It was compassion mixed with panic. An understanding that humans were cruel. And it made him see red.

The warehouse was filled with thirty witches and wizards and Graves strode right in, locked eyes with the sphinx, and transformed. A deafening roar shook the very building as Percival whirled on the startled people. Power thrummed through his veins and he opened his mouth and rent the nearest person in two, blood dripping down his fangs and neck.

This. This is where he was meant to be. Protecting the innocents from the horrors of humanity.

There was no need to oblivate anyone.

* * *

The fourth time he was drugged. Drugged and in pain and bound in a dark room. Gellert Grindelwald looked at him from the doorway, a smirk permanently plastered on his face.

The dark wizard casually tossed the Cruciatus Curse at him, with barely a flick of his wrist. Percival screamed until his throat was raw. He'd been privy to the Cruciatus Curse before--it came with the job--but never from a wizard as powerful as Grindelwald. Percival lost all sense of time, all sense of self as his mind registered only the excruciating pain that made him wish for death.

The sudden withdrawal of the spell as Grindelwald whisked his hand through the air was almost more painful than the spell itself.

Graves watched his captor with unfocused eyes and waited. Powerful men always had one thing in common and Grindelwald, above anyone else, would want to gloat.

Percival was never so happy to be right before. Grindelwald spoke but Percival couldn't hear any of it. Instead he followed the pacing of the man with his eyes, teeth bared as the chains held him upright.

Grindelwald moved just into range and Percival transformed quickly, jaw snapping where Grindelwald's head was. The dark wizard was faster than Percival though, thanks to the drugs still affecting him, and moved out of the way just enough. He still managed to bloody the side of Grindelwald's face, a fang ripping at the skin on his cheek and tearing it effortlessly.

It was satisfying to see the look of shock on the dark wizard's face, but there was no fear. The magic bonds merely adapted to Percival's newer and larger form, binding him uncomfortably. He'd been hoping his blood would freeze the poison, but luck wasn't on his side, if it'd ever been.

The wound Graves left on Grindelwald's face was waved away with a casual hand, but the skin would scar. It would always scar. If Grindelwald knew this, he didn't seem to care.

"Look at _you,_ " Grindelwald breathed out as Percival tried to leverage himself against the wall to break the chains. The spell was too strong and the drugs made his movements lethargic and clumsy. "An unregistered animagus? No, not you, Director of Magical Law Enforcement. No, something more...intrinsic, I think.

"But what?"

* * *

After that, Grindelwald seemed to delight in making Graves change forms. A game of sorts to see what spells didn't rebound off Graves's scales. Luckily, Cruciatus couldn't penetrate the scales, but a fire spell could. The flames that tried to thrum through his veins kept him more incapacitated than any of the potions Grindelwald injected in his skin when he was human.

"There's not much literature about you," Grindelwald said conversationally as Graves thrashed in his bonds, his wings already bloodied as he tried to escape the burns inside him. "There's all sorts of names, but not much more. 'Antiqui draconis.' The first of the dragons, long thought extinct. Tell me, Mr. Graves, where's your hoard?"

Graves snarled and snapped at Grindelwald who was far out of Graves's reach. His mother had a hoard of plants and the wards and locks around her garden were legendary. Percival was allowed in the garden only by virtue of him being part of the clan. Graves's father hoarded Civil War memorabilia, though being only half of their kind, didn't guard them with as much vengeance.

Percival was closer to his mother than his father in that regard. A large hoard, but one that was easily hidden as something normal. One he hid the No Maj way, under a trap door beneath his house. There were a few wards placed on physical objects, but none that Grindelwald would be able to notice.

An answering smile was all Grindelwald gave Graves's posturing. "All your hiding, Mr. Graves. Wouldn't it be better to take your place above all these Muggles? Protected and honored?"

_Like this?_ Graves thought. A wizard's cruelty is no different from a No Maj's.

* * *

The spells got continually more complex as Grindelwald experimented on him. Graves would say torture, but they were really one and the same. Grindelwald found out how much fire it took to cause burn marks on the leathery parts of his wings. The iciest temperatures Graves could survive in. What kind of magic and strain it took to pull a scale from his skin.

"Three months and no one's noticed, Mr. Graves. Shall we see how long a dragon can survive without food?"

When Grindelwald left, he cast a heating spell on the room that was uncomfortable for humans and downright painful for him.

He transformed into a wizard when Grindelwald was out of sight, the pain of his cuts and wounds more pronounced, but at least his skin wasn't boiling itself.

* * *

It's a miracle that when they finally find Graves that he's human. A poor excuse for one, but a human nonetheless.

"Check the room," came a voice. Seraphina's voice. What she was doing in the field was beyond Percival, but that barely registered. Percival was barely conscious as he tried to lift his eyelids. At least five shapes moved in the darkness and Graves's instincts were growling at him to transform, but Seraphina being here brought him a bit of hope. She was, after all, part of his clan. Whether she knew it or not.

"Mr. Graves, Director, can you hear me?" Porpetina's voice. The shapes must have been Aurors then which meant....

"You got him?" Graves asked, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

"He's in custody, sir."

Graves had the insane desire to cry but just sagged in relief. He was free. They had Grindelwald.

"How?"

"One of Newt's creatures tracked your scent."

Grave opened his eyes more to look up at Tina's face, confusion evident in his eyes. He could see more of Tina at that moment and relaxed further. Another of his clan.

Oh. She was answering how they found Percival. How long ago had they caught Grindelwald? How much time had passed since he was originally captured? Time meant little in this dark room.

"Does anyone have Phoenix tears?"

"What kind of binding spell is on the manacles?"

"Ma'am, what do you want us to do with these potions?"

"What kind of scales are these?"

"Mr. Graves, uh, sir?"

The last was directed at him from a male--was that a British accent?--that swam into his vision. Curly red hair, pale skin, and freckles. Without thought, Graves bared his teeth and growled at the newcomer, straining at his chains to snarl at the man. His instincts were normally nicely segmented but after so long changing back and forth between his dragon form and human they were...confused.

The newcomer's bright blue eyes widened, but he didn't leave Graves's vision. "This is Newt, Director Graves," came Tina's voice quickly. "He's the one who found you."

Graves pulled his lips back over his teeth but didn't lower his guard. Not that it mattered. What could he do?

Well, Newt was more than in range if he were to transform....

"Mr. Graves, they're, uh, trying to undo your shackles," the man before him stuttered. His gaze was lowered, looking nowhere near Graves's face and looked more like prey than any human Graves had seen before. "There's a spell on them, but I have- I have, well, Pickett. He might be able, that is, he can maybe pick the lock? If you'll allow him, of course," the man added hastily.

Percival looked to Tina for guidance. She nodded quickly, her eyes pleading for Graves to trust the man. "Newt's been a great help, Director. He wouldn't hurt a flobberworm."

"Of course not!" Newt said in an offended tone. "They're defenseless!"

Percival gave a laugh that sounded more like a cough. Newt might not hurt a flobberworm, but Percival was a touch more dangerous than that. "Get me down."

Newt reached into his shirt pocket and came up empty, which seemed to shock the younger man. After frantically searching all his coat pockets, Newt finally plucked a small twig from somewhere in that hideous blue coat. Ah, not a twig. A bowtruckle. One that looked absolutely terrified of Percival. Animals, magical or not, seemed to always know what Percival was and respond accordingly. Mostly by cowering.

"I'm sorry, he's not normally like this," Newt said, stumbling over his words as he proceeded to scold the poor animal. "Mr. Graves needs our help, Pickett." The bowtruckle quailed as he looked into Graves's eyes. It stung, but Graves lowered his gaze from the small twig.

Less than twenty seconds later and the shackles holding Graves upright were open. He collapsed and would have crashed into the cement beneath him if it weren't for Tina and Newt scrambling to grab him. He let them bear his weight as they gently lowered him to the ground. Whatever gripes Graves previously had about Newt vanished as his instincts reclassified him as an ally.

"Percival?" Seraphina's voice came from somewhere above him, but he'd already closed his eyes. As unconsciousness crept on him, a strong desire to laugh hysterically welled up inside him and he wasn't quite sure where it came from.

Safety, after all, is such a fickle thing.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, you guys!! Thank you so much!! I don't think I've ever been as warmly welcomed into a fandom and a ship in forever :) All of your comments and kudos were absolutely amazing and I was blown away. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

It took two weeks for Percival Graves to open his eyes in the hospital. The room was starkly white and the perfect temperature to Graves, which probably meant colder to anyone else. There were at least three monitors that he was hooked up to that he could see. Doubtless this was an improvement from when he arrived.

Porpetina Goldstein dozed in the chair at his bedside, drool running just a bit from her mouth. On the floor beside her was a beaten old brown suitcase that Graves couldn't recall her ever carrying.

His awakening didn't go unnoticed long and mediwitches proceeded to hurry into the room, volleying questions at him at a speed he frankly couldn't--and didn't want to--keep up with.

He closed his eyes and let their worrying be for another day.

* * *

The next time he woke up was to Seraphina Picquery sitting at his bedside.

"You've seen better days, Percival," she said blandly when she noticed his eyes open. If there was one thing Percival loved about Sera, it was her ability to never address the elephant in the room. It saved them many an awkward conversation before.

"Seen worse, too," Graves replied, his voice hoarse and barely audible from disuse. "Diagnosis?"

"You'll be back to haunting MACUSA's doorstep within the month if you keep healing at this rate. Physical therapy may take some time, but you've got enough paperwork to keep you out of fieldwork for a few months."

So he still had a job, but he was on desk duty until he got the okay from Madame President. It was...more than he could ask for. More than he'd hoped for. He assumed they'd find him as a dragon and kill on sight. Grindelwald leaving the temperature too hot for Graves to bear all those days had been a blessing in disguise for that.

"When did you find out?"

Seraphina pursed her lips and looked away from Graves's bed. "We didn't. I'll leave the report to you, but we owe Mr. Scamander a great debt."

"Scamander? Theseus?"

"No, his younger brother, Newt. The Brit who was with us when we found you."

Graves had been in contact with his Ministry counterpart in Britain for the past fifteen years. It had started out with Theseus looking for advice and turned into a rather unlikely friendship.

Theseus would call it a friendship at least. Graves would only refer to his friendship as "putting up with" Theseus. But he'd say it with a smile and the knowledge that Theseus was probably as close a friend as Graves could have. So Graves knew of Theseus's younger brother. Expelled from Hogwarts for a crime it was likely he didn't commit. A magizoologist--a title that Theseus assured Graves Newt had probably just come up with on his own. Beyond all of that, Graves knew that Newt had a predilection for finding and seeking out trouble beyond that of even Theseus.

And considering Theseus's track record, it was a terrifying thought.

"And Grindelwald?"

"He's in custody, under remote watch every second of every day in the darkest and deepest pit we have." Percival added the 'until he escapes' at the end of Picquery's sentence for her. Because MACUSA didn't have the manpower to hold a man like Grindelwald if he didn't want to be held. Not unless they took some highly illegal measures.

Measures the Percival found he was very much okay with.

"We'll keep you safe," Picquery said, his expression giving away more than he wanted it to, apparently. "We're planning on handing Grindelwald over as soon as we can be assured of a safe transport, regardless. Just rest up, Director Graves. I'll make sure you're kept completely up to date."

Percival nodded and felt his eyelids grow heavy as either exhaustion caught up with him or Seraphina increased his dosage of one drug or another.

"And Percy?" she continued softly as Percival floated in the haze between wakefulness and rest. "I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry."

* * *

The next few times Graves woke up, he was surrounded by Mediwitches and did his best to explain what had happened in Grindelwald's custody. The doctors and nurses spoke back and forth to one another on certain theories they had. How Graves was recovering so quickly. Why he seemed to do better in the cold. The chances of permanent loss of functions.

Graves could answer a few of those, but he kept silent. His recovery was speedy because of what he was, and the preference for cold had always been something he had. He made sure to test his limbs and see how they were faring, but it was any damage to his _other_ form that frightened him. Sure, he never actually transformed often and never took to the skies, but the thought of his wings not capable of flight was...distressing.

A few days passed where Graves was mostly coherent and his rapid healing was baffling to the Mediwitches. "Maybe Grindelwald gave him something" was the common excuse bouncing around and it took every ounce of willpower to not snarl any time he heard it. His instincts were still muddled and impossible to reign in all the time. Not to mention, there were too many people around that he didn't know poking and prodding him. He still hadn't been able to check on the state of his hoard to see if it was all intact. It meant that his already paper thin control was all but completely shot. A few Mediwitches nursed some bite marks that were a testament to that fact. He'd even accidentally frozen someone's hand whole when they'd taken him by surprise, only trying to measure his blood pressure.

The paranoia and dreams made him jumpier than normal. Every shadow was Grindelwald. Every diagnostic spell that was waved over him brought a momentary panic as he expected the words to be "Crucio" or "Calficio."

'Wild magic' was his diagnosis. His eyes weren't so bad that he couldn't read the doctor's prognosis when he came in to deliver his "a few more days for observation" speech.

'Unknown creature-like spell affecting the mental capacity of the patient. Inability to control magic when startled or if the patient feels sufficiently threatened. Given the patient's history of impeccable control and deep reserves of magic, it is recommended that the patient stay until a diagnosis can be more specifically arrived upon.'

So he was doomed to the hospital for the foreseeable future, which would only cause him to get worse.

* * *

Tina burst into his room without announcement to the loud indignation of the Mediwitches. The Brit, Newt, followed behind her, eyes cast downwards perpetually as he darted into the room and against the wall.

"Ma'am, we are runnin-"

"I'm here to spring you out, Director," Tina said as she walked close to the bed where Percival lay. "President's orders."

"About damn time," Percival grumbled as he sat up and swung his legs from the bed.

One of the doctors stepped into Tina's space. "The President cannot override a primary physician's order made in the care of his patient." He punctuated his point with a finger wagging in Tina's face and that seemed to be all it took for Graves to step in between the two and grab the offending finger with his not inconsiderable strength. The growl that from Graves's chest reverberated off the walls, drowning out the monitors that were meant to keep check on Graves. He didn't bother trying to lower the volume of the growl because this wasn't a doctor chastising him for wandering the halls, this was an intruder acting aggressively towards a member of Graves's clan.

The doctor should count himself lucky to still be conscious.

"I wouldn't do that, doctor," Graves said. The temperature of the room dropped a few degrees more and Graves deliberately let ice travel across his fingers. Graves could feel the fear rolling of the doctors and nurses behind him and even a bit from Tina herself. Newt, however, didn't seem to have the same trepidation. Percival let his eyes wander to the Brit and was startled that Newt was looking at him in unmasked curiosity. The man played at being the easiest prey when there was no reason to, but stood taller when confronted with true danger?

It was, apparently, a Scamander trait, Percival thought in exasperation.

Tina's fingers gently covered Percival's own and he reluctantly released the doctor, but did not stray from his spot in between the two of them. "We've decided to get a second opinion, doctor. One more suited to narrowing down your diagnosis."

"Liste-" the doctor aborted his speech when Graves glared at him. "We still don't know the full extent of Mr. Graves's injuries, nor if he poses as risk to anyone. He's still exhibiting dangerous creature-like tendencies."

"Exactly," Tina said in a tone that radiated pure smugness. "Which is why the President is handing the case over to someone with experience in what Mr. Graves may be afflicted with."

Graves swung his gaze to Newt Scamander who'd gone back to trying to retreat into the wall. If Seraphina hadn't have sang the young man's praises in Graves's rescue, he would have firmly moved him from 'ally' to 'threat.'

* * *

Percival was moved to Goldsteins' residence because Picquery thought that he couldn't take the sight of his own home after being captive there so long. She'd be right of course, if it weren't for the itch that burrowed deeper into his skin by not being able to curl up among his hoard. At least he was away from potential threats.

He'd ensured that by the myriad of wards he threw up over the residence to mingle with the Goldsteins' own.

Newt, it seemed, was staying with the sisters in a spare room. One that Graves was to inhabit with him until it could be determined what Graves was suffering from or, if they couldn't, until they'd determined that he didn't pose a danger to the general public. It was a laughable thought, or would be if it didn't fill Graves with complete hopelessness.

"I've been told you're to thank for finding me," Percival said when he and Tina finally got a few of Graves's effects settled in.

"Oh," Newt started, as if he'd not been expecting Percival to ever speak to him. "It was nothing. I'm glad to have helped. In any way I could. Can."

"And you can help me with," Percival wracked his brain for a word that wouldn't be a total lie, "the side effects?"

Newt nodded, but he was looking about five inched to the left of Percival's shoulder instead of directly at him. "Many of the potions left by Grindelwald had," Newt looked decidedly uncomfortable as he moved his gaze briefly to Percival's face, "bases taken from creatures. We're- well, Madame President thinks maybe one's responsible for the...." If there was an end to Newt's sentence, he didn't voice it.

"And what do you think?"

Newt bit at his bottom lip but looked Percival square in the eyes. _He knows,_ Percival thought, heart hammering in his chest. It didn't take a genius to read someone as open as Newt Scamander. Percival barely registered Newt shaking his head, eyes darting back away. "I don't think you're dangerous, Mr. Graves."

At the moment, Percival couldn't help but agree. Between the both of them, Newt was infinitely more dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!! Kudos and comments mean the absolute world to me!!!
> 
> As always, you can find me on [tumblr](the-lady-magician.tumblr.com) where I take prompts and post about whatever fandom I'm probably currently lurking silently in :D

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time since I've written anything Harry Potter-esque. For good reason, I suppose :) Fantastic Beasts is different enough for me that I'm fine with it. Plus, I freaking love Newt and Percival and my recent cosplay as genderbent Percival probably helped with pulling me into this fandom.... 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!! As always, comments and kudos are my life's blood and make me feel loved and wanted :D You can find me on [tumblr](the-lady-magician.tumblr.com) where my interests are vast and numerous. I'm always taking prompts, though make no promises on quick turnarounds. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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